


don’t slip away [i’ll be the light]

by 4beit



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Past Sexual Abuse, alludes to:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28046931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4beit/pseuds/4beit
Summary: her mind is still caught, still remembering jamie with a far away look in her eyes and shaking, trembling “just,” she exhales, pausing long enough to press another kiss to the nape of jamie’s neck, and for jamie’s hesitant exhalation to shudder under her hand “talk to me.” she says gently “what happened?”
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 20
Kudos: 138





	don’t slip away [i’ll be the light]

**Author's Note:**

> for further explanation of the warning in the tags, see the note at the end.

“dani,” jamie’s voice pitches from rough and arousal soaked to sharp and tight “dani, stop.” it’s as if someone has pulled her taught, stiffness dropping down jamie’s spine and a hand, white-knuckled and buried in the covers comes to dani’s shoulder. her fingers curl into the exposed skin there as if this touch is her only tether. the press of her fingertips into dani’s arm should be bruising, might be bruising, except the discomfort is the last thing on dani’s mind. in front of her, under her, jamie’s gone very still, trembling legs motionless, thighs coming together if not for dani settled still between them. 

dani shifts, her mind racing and her heart rate ratcheting through roof as a vaguely sick sensation rises in the back of her throat. she carefully moves from between jamie’s legs, the last of the lust-fuelled haze quickly being replaced by concern, by worry spurred on by the unfamiliar twist in jamie’s voice. jamie’s hand drops from her shoulder, running through messy curls and bunching into a fist as her eyes flutter shut.

dani watches, momentarily helpless as jamie sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. the muscles of her forearm are rigid, defined in ways that would normally spur on endless arousal, but not tonight. nausea simmers on the periphery of dani’s attention and her own heart pounds relentlessly against her ribs, but neither of those things matter. she reaches, not for jamie, but the blanket, pulling it up and over jamie’s legs, across her abdomen. dani shifts with the movement, coming closer to jamie’s side, watching the heaving of her chest. she’s fighting something, that much dani is aware of, can tell by the way jamie’s teeth are biting into her lower lip. 

jamie’s eyes are still screwed shut, her breathing arrhythmic and heavy as dani reaches out. her fingertips brush against the back of the hand wound tight in jamie’s hair. the motion is small, the touch feather-light but dani is consumed with the need to do, to help, but is oh so aware of the need to be gentle. her fingers move in irrelevant circles, coaxing jamie to release even some of the tension as dani reaches blindly behind her, half aware of the discarded shirt in the vicinity. she wants it, needs to have it to hand just in case. somehow, her own nakedness is less important not when faced with jamie, seemingly on the edge of shattering.

for dani a small eternity has passed since they were making out against the bedroom door, pulling each other out of their clothing and kissing fervently, hurriedly, like they haven’t done this a hundred times before. at last, dani’s fingers find the soft fabric of the shirt and she clutches it, dragging it across her lap and leaving it there. 

“what do you need?” dani asks, her voice all but a murmur in the half-darkness of their bedroom. she aches to pull jamie into her arms, aches to press soft kisses to her temple, but not yet, 

not yet. 

jamie answers with a ragged gasp and a refusal to loosen her grip. there’s blood pooling on her lip and when jamie’s eyes flutter open, they’re frantic, searching for dani amongst the familiar confines of their bedroom “dani,” she exhales as her gaze settles, and that sounds like relief in her voice. relief that turns sour, turns apologetic “dani, dani, 'm sorry.” the words are spilling from her seemingly without jamie’s control. 

the first tears slip down jamie’s cheeks and she wipes at them roughly with the back of her hand, smearing blood across the line of her jaw in the process. jamie doesn’t seem to notice. she takes a second, heaving breath and shuts her eyes again, shaking head with a sort of pained expression that starts with a crease between her eyebrows and deepens as she grimaces. dani’s heart breaks again and she shuffles closer along the bed, letting the length of her legs press against jamie’s. 

“you have nothing to be sorry for.” dani says, her voice steady, easy, calm despite her own wash of emotions currently being ignored. they’re churning in her stomach, threatening to overflow, but there’s no room for anxiety when jamie is still, 

fragile. the thought of the word spooks dani further, forcing her attention to centre in on jamie and the way she’s fighting for control of herself. she’s never considered jamie fragile, not once, not ever. 

this is a first. 

a first unlike any of the many, many others dani and jamie have shared. 

“jamie,” dani says, the backs of two fingers running along jamie’s cheek. it’s a touch that’s barely there, a touch to catch some of the tears making trails and a touch to coax “jamie,” dani says again, no edge to her voice “can you look at me?” she takes a breath, speaking softer, wiping more tears with the pad of her thumb “please?” she adds, and it’s the only hint of desperation she allows to slip through as she cups jamie’s cheek. 

there’s the soft wash of jamie’s breath over dani’s wrist as she turns into the contact, even as she shakes her head. the motion is small, aborted, but dani sees it. she feels it. the knot of uncertainty in her stomach deepens, but dani forces a calm breath, a gentle “okay. that’s okay.” and adds, as her lips brush against jamie’s forehead “you’re safe. you’re with me. you’re safe here jamie, i promise.” 

a shuddering breath escapes jamie’s chest and she squeezes dani’s hand, leaning into the warmth of her body. some, but not all, of the panic recedes and dani repeats herself “you’re safe.” she says, coaxing jamie into her. her lips brush against jamie’s temple as her forehead comes to rest against the cut of dani’s collarbone “can i hold you?” dani asks, half an idea coming to mind, half a way to provide comfort. 

“please.” jamie says, her breath rolling down dani’s bare chest, making dani shiver only because of her own, forgotten nudity. there’s a tremble to jamie’s entire body that dani wants to smooth away. jamie’s free hand is working into the sheets, wrapping around and around, betraying the anxiety and storm within. 

dani starts to remove the hand tangled with jamie’s but a soft, strangled, almost panicked noise rises in jamie’s throat, matched by her grip tightening tenfold. it seems almost instinctive, reactive, jamie acting without thinking, so dani stills. she moves her thumb in mindless patterns along the flat of jamie’s hand, reassuring with touch for long, long seconds before she speaks. 

“i’m going to sit behind you. okay?” dani says, “that’s all, i'm not going anywhere. i’m not leaving.” she brings her free hand to the back of jamie’s head. she lets her fingertips scratch lightly at jamie’s hairline, starting there and moving down her back in sweeping motions. she keeps her movements steady, protracted and she waits. dani waits with jamie in her arms, half in her lap, until jamie nods. it’s half a motion, but it’s enough and dani presses a kiss to the swell of jamie’s shoulder “i’ve got you.” she promises. 

this time, she moves slowly. she untangles her hand from jamie’s, using it to hold her weight as she brings one leg around, shifting so her back is against the headboard. the wood is startlingly cool against the length of dani’s back as she settles there. she reaches with a hand, jamie stock still where dani left her, and her fingers curl around jamie’s shoulder “lean back.” dani murmurs, needing, yearning, for the weight of jamie’s back against her chest and to be able to hold her close. 

jamie moves slowly, as if disconnected from herself. she slides back, guided by dani’s hand on her shoulder. from this vantage point, dani can see each sharp, hiccuped breath jamie manages to take. she can see the knots of her spine as jamie curls forward, curling in on herself even as she settles between dani’s legs. it makes dani ache and she trails her hand, the one from jamie’s shoulder, down the ladder of her ribs and curling around jamie’s waist. there’s some relief when jamie yields to the touch, when she collapses back into dani’s arms, bringing the covers up across them both. 

dani doesn’t realise how cold she was until the warmth of jamie’s body against hers is trapped by the sheets. she lets out a steadying exhalation and trails the fingers of her left hand across the bones of jamie’s hip and around her waist. the contact lasts only until jamie’s hand finds dani’s, until jamie’s fingers are tangling with dani’s. it’s all dani can do now to hold jamie close. she tips her head forward pressing a delicate kiss to the plane of jamie’s back, to the edge of her scar. she has infinite patience, infinite time for jamie. each kiss seems to unwind jamie further, the tension of her spine not gone, but loosening, allowing jamie the ability to lean back into dani. 

silence reigns for seconds that bleed to minutes and dani continues with her thumb moving in patterns across jamie’s hand. she continues with purposeful, measured breaths that jamie has started to match. the process is slow, jamie’s shoulders still jerking when a hiccup seizes her. wherever she went, whatever horror took her, dani thinks jamie is beginning to resurface, beginning to come back to herself. one of jamie’s legs works its way across dani’s and jamie’s free hand runs through her hair as she takes a wavering breath “’m sorry.” she exhales “’m sorry, dani.” 

dani shakes her head, forgetting that jamie can’t see the motion – although she might feel the shift of dani’s lips against her shoulder. then, there’s a hand, dani’s free hand starting at the ball of jamie’s shoulder and smoothing down. a trail of goosebumps follow in her wake, fingertips sliding down the line of jamie's forearm “you have nothing to be sorry for.” dani reiterates, fingers circling along the ridges of jamie’s knuckles “okay?” she adds, wanting, needing jamie to understand she’s done nothing wrong. 

jamie nods, the motion disjointed and dani presses a kiss to the nape of her neck. there’s a soft exhalation from jamie as she brings dani’s hand, the one tangled with her own, to her lips. the motion is gentle, being savoured as jamie grounds herself “i ruined date night.” jamie exhales, a familiar self-abasement twisting in her voice “think that deserves an apology.” she says, slowly bringing her legs to her chest. 

dani is aware of a different sort of tension captivating jamie. this time at least it’s familiar in a way that dani remembers. a memory slips from the back her mind, of the first time she saw jamie’s scar.

_shirts are on the floor in a heap as dani finds her back against the closed bedroom door. jamie’s lips are at her jaw, her neck and for long, unforgettable seconds, dani stops breathing as jamie’s teeth scrape not-so-lightly against her pulse point. her head tips back, knocking against the dark wood as a moan she can’t control escapes from barely parted lips. her reaction draws one from jamie, a half chuckle, half moan as she gently pushes a knee between dani’s thighs._

_“jamie,” dani gasps, a hand skating up the line of jamie’s spine and -_

_and jamie goes still. her hands freeze, half pulling away as if ready to run, to move, to protect herself. jamie looks up at her and dani’s heart stops in her chest because,_

_because jamie’s afraid._

_for a moment dani wonders if it’s something she’s said, she’s done – horrified with herself for somehow causing this reaction “jamie?” she repeats, the lust replaced by concern as she moves her fingers along the exposed skin of jamie’s back in some attempt to calm, to soothe “what-” then dani stops herself, understanding all at once._

_gently, with purpose, she strokes her fingers along the scarred skin at jamie’s back “jamie,” she exhales, bringing one hand to jamie’s chin, coaxing, urging her to look up “you’re beautiful.” she says “all of you.”_

_jamie exhales sharp and all at once as dani rocks forward, kissing her, kissing her._

the vulnerability in jamie’s eyes then, is rippling through jamie’s body now. 

“you didn’t ruin anything.” dani counters fiercely, heart breaking. her mind is still caught, still remembering jamie with a far away look in her eyes and shaking, trembling “just,” she exhales, pausing long enough to press another kiss to the nape of jamie’s neck, and for jamie’s hesitant exhalation to shudder under her hand “talk to me.” she says gently “what happened?”

* * *

jamie is outside of herself, sort of. her mind and her body are working as two separate, yet vaguely and improperly connected connected halves of one whole. there’s an itch to her skin that only starts to be soothed by the delicate press of dani’s lips against her back and the run of dani’s fingers along the back of her palm. they’re a tether where jamie is still floating, still at risk of slipping back into nightmares. there’s a cage around her ribs, a band that tightens and tightens further each time she even begins to think about explaining to dani what happened. how she, how she went from being in their bedroom, laid out on her back with a pounding heart washing her in relentless pleasure, 

to being twelve, with her heart threatening to beat out of her chest for entirely different reasons. 

white hot tears warm her cheeks and it’s as another ragged breath is pulled from her chest that she tries to speak, tries to place words to what happened. 

“d’you remember,” she starts, pulling her knees closer to her chest, as if being smaller can somehow make this less painful “what i told you about my time in foster care?” jamie asks the question and her heart stutters in her chest in the silence that follows. a free hand wraps around her shins and she fights against the urge to bury her forehead into her kneecaps. the desire, no, the need to curl in on herself, to protect and shield is almost more than jamie can bare as she digs clipped fingernails into the soft skin of her calf. the pain grounds, it’s a force in the here and now, like dani. 

dani whose carefully brought a hand to jamie’s and is easing jamie’s nails out of her leg. she’s intertwining their fingers and saying oh so softly, oh so gently “i remember.” punctuating the response with a kiss to jamie’s shoulder. jamie, half in control of herself, bites back a sob, but the aborted cry rattles in her chest, a strangled sound.

jamie is surrounded by dani. her legs bracketing jamie’s, her arms holding jamie close even as she curls away, into her self. there’s dani’s lips on her shoulder, her neck, her back. each kiss void of searing passion, but full of tender reassurance. jamie knows, has known, that for dani, actions speak louder than words. there’s the press of dani’s lips at the base of her neck and jamie’s eyes flutter shut at the contact, the lump in her throat rising, the band around her ribs tightening and she forces “that. that’s what happened.” hoping it will be enough. but the word is warped, almost beyond recognition surely. 

no. 

not for dani. 

not for dani who knows her best. 

“oh jamie,” she murmurs, her breath warm on jamie’s neck and as she continues to speak, warmth seeps in the spaces between her ribs, warmth and something like safety. the band unwinds, allowing her ribs to heave a breath as dani speaks again “you’re shivering.” 

jamie hadn’t noticed. 

one of dani’s arms stays wrapped around jamie’s middle, an anchor as she reaches with her free hand for something amongst the valleys of the blankets. jamie watches, tipping her head to the left and letting her cheek settle against the swell of dani’s bicep. it’s a shirt that dani retrieves, her shirt even, bringing it in front of jamie as an offering, a question. 

“what about you?” jamie asks softly, surprised at the gravel in her voice, the ache in her throat. 

if she’s cold, dani must be too she reasons. 

“you first.” dani says, pressing the shirt into jamie’s hands “i’ll find something else.” she presses another kiss to the ball of jamie’s shoulder “i promise.” 

jamie works the fabric over her hands, taking seconds longer than it probably should to slip her arms into the sleeves, over her head and let the fabric slide down her back. it bunches where dani is still pressed against her and jamie shifts in place, twisting an arm back to arrange it properly but, 

but instead dani’s touch is soft on her wrist and gentle, cool fingers trace along the hem, guiding the shirt down to jamie’s hips. the wave of warmth that follows has jamie breathing becoming easier still. 

“there.” jamie hears the gentle smile in dani’s voice that’s accompanied by familiar hands wrapping around her waist, coaxing her to lean back “better?” 

she’s definitely warmer, although it’s still the heat seeping from dani that jamie wants to lean in to, almost does except - “what about you?” she asks, echoing her earlier words and turning her head to glance sideways over her shoulder at dani. 

she’s met with a smile, a fond, only-for-her, smile that has the last of the cage around jamie’s ribs shattering. she takes a far less ragged breath, leaning forward and reaching blindly for any semblance of clothing she can pass to dani. there’s a gentle laugh behind her, one that sits in dani’s chest as her hand trails down jamie’s back “i’ll get something from the drawer.” she says, “just-” and for the first time since spiralling into the shadows of her past, jamie hears the hitch in dani’s voice. 

or rather, she hears some muted emotion threading into dani’s words, into the pause that lengthens as jamie allows herself to be coaxed back. she turns, awkward in between dani’s legs, but shifting so she can kneel in front of her, leaning back on her heels. reflexively it seems, one of dani’s hands come to her jaw, tugging her into a kiss. there is no urgency here, only languid enjoyment as jamie’s mind, her body, begin to settle. there’s comfort in the hand that comes to the small of her back and the way jamie leans, pressing her forehead against dani’s as they part for a breath. 

“i love you,” dani exhales, thumb brushing along jamie’s cheek “i love you so much.” 

jamie eyes flutter shut “i-” she starts, but there are no words, not really. not for what dani guided her through tonight. she exhales, feeling almost whole and a part of herself once again, but needing the wavering exhalation out of her system “thank you.” are the words that come next “for-i-,” she fumbles over words that will not come. 

anxiety rises in the back of her throat because she has to, she needs to explain, to say - 

dani kisses her. not to silence jamie, but to say without so many words that she doesn’t owe dani anything. not any more of an explanation, not a thank you, 

nothing. 

dani kisses her and jamie kisses back. she allows her mind to lose threads of thought and focus only on dani’s arms around her, on dani’s warmth, her weight, 

her everything. if jamie could stay in this moment forever, she would. 

she can’t, but the moment that follows is just as sweet. 

“can i hold you?” dani asks when they part, “i’ll get some shorts and if you want, we can just lay here. together.” this close to each other it’s impossible to miss the vulnerability in dani’s eyes, to sense that maybe dani needs this as much as she does. 

jamie takes a steadying breath, one hand brushing along the length of dani’s until their fingers tangle together “please.” jamie nods, reluctant to lean back, to move away, to lose dani only for as long as it takes for her to fish a pair of sleep shorts and shirt from the floor. 

it doesn’t take long. 

not for dani to settle back on the bed. it’s only with one of dani’s hands on her hip that jamie begins to lay down, to lay out. she wriggles back, moving along until the length of herself is pressed against dani. dani’s warm and strong and wraps one arm across jamie’s hips. there’s the soft wash of dani’s breath across her back as she leans forward, kissing jamie’s neck delicately, gently “sleep.” she urges, somehow sensing how bone tired jamie suddenly feels, exhaustion consuming her from nowhere “i’ve got you.” 

so jamie does.

**Author's Note:**

> [further explanation: while it is not talked about explicity, it is implied that jamie suffered some sort of sexual abuse while in foster care.] 
> 
> this story started as a writing exercise. i wanted to zoom in on the characters and slow down the pace of my writing. i wanted to try and stop using things like "X feels" or "Y feels" in favour of describing what they're feeling. i wanted to focus on characters in a way that my writing hasn't really done before. 
> 
> this was a challenge. this story was a labor of love, of sitting in my reading chair with a cat on my lap and going /slow down. describe more, what are they doing/. it's taken the better part of a week to write and it's the hardest 3k i've written in a long time. but now that i'm on the other side of this challenge, i am so pleased with the piece as a whole. i hope y'all enjoyed - feel free to drop a comment.


End file.
